


Day 11: Ada

by ofplanet_earth



Series: 30 days of Barduil [11]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Ada feels, Author fails at Elvish, Bad Elvish, Eru almost literally in the flesh, Family Feels, Fluff, M/M, Parent Thranduil, Post-Canon, The Valar are glorified storks, Thranduil is a good Ada, Thranduil wants a baby, bard loves his family, essentially, stork baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofplanet_earth/pseuds/ofplanet_earth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“A beautiful, half-elven girl with dark hair and blue eyes. I have seen her; she comes to me in dreams. She calls me Ada.” The blue of Thranduil’s eyes met his and suddenly, Bard could see her, too. She was fair and elegant like Thranduil, but dark and reckless, like he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 11: Ada

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TexannaRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TexannaRose/gifts).



> this one's a bit short, but my body has a special talent for picking the worst moments to sleep in. 
> 
> TexannaRose requested that Thranduil and Bard be given a half-elven baby. I'm all full of the family feels and I don't really regret it.

“Do you think we could have a child?” Thranduil muttered one night in the throes of near- sleep. It struck Bard somewhere deep in his chest. 

“You know that is not possible, my love.” 

“I know,” Thranduil turned into Bard’s shoulder and sighed. “But if it were. Do you think we could do it?” He was so precious like this, warm and soft and only for Bard. He could seethat Thranduil worried for Bard and his aging body. Elves were burdened with another fate— perhaps a blessing, but perhaps also a curse. It burned Bard to think of his husband living without him.

“Of course we could, my love.” Thranduil smiled as Bard held him closer. “He would be the most wonderful child on all of Arda.” 

“She,” Thranduil corrected.

“A girl?” 

“Yes,” he whispered. “A beautiful, half- elven girl with dark hair and blue eyes. I have seen her; she comes to me in dreams. She calls me Ada.” The blue of Thranduil’s eyes met his and suddenly, Bard could see her, too. She was fair and elegant like Thranduil, but dark and reckless, like he was.

“I am sorry,” Bard pressed his lips against his husband’s forehead and held him tighter.

“Do not be, meleth- nín. I am happy with this. With you here beside me.” 

Bard did not say that he was set to leave within the week. Did not mention that the winter was upon them and travel would become difficult. Thranduil knew these things, and bringing them up would do no one any good. “Yet you long for another child.” 

“Children of the elves are precious beyond even the stars. These halls grow lonely when you leave. I would hear the laughter of a child echo within the mountain once more.” 

Bard sighed. He knew as much, but there was nothing to be done for it. He pushed these thoughts aside and settled closer against the warmth of his husband beside him. When he slept, he too dreamed of a child. She was small and bright and she was delivered to him by a man cloaked in a light so bright Bard could not look upon him for any length of time. 

The morning came quickly and with it, the sound of a voice calling his name. 

“Bard. _Bard!_ Wake up!” Something was wrong, surely, for the urgency in Thranduil’s voice could mean nothing else. He sat up quickly— perhaps too quickly— and blinked until his vision returned to him. “Bard, look!” 

Bard did. He tried. What he saw, he could scarcely believe. Thranduil was radiant. Bard had not seen such a sight since they were married some years before. He was crying as well, and smiling through the tears as though he hadn’t noticed them. 

He held something— a bundle of blankets— and he looked upon them with the softest expression Bard had ever seen; even more tender than when he had looked upon Bard’s own children, years ago when they were young. 

The child. The child that had come to him in a dream. The child Thranduil’s heart had yearned for. Surely it could not be so. But Bard climbed from their bed and stepped onto the carpet over the stone floor, clumsy in his haste to reach his husband and the source of such joy. 

“How— how is this possible?” Bard sank to the floor beside Thranduil and looked upon the most fair and peaceful face he had ever seen. Thranduil was rambling in elvish, fast enough that Bard’s rudimentary knowledge could not keep up. He was crying in earnest now, his words becoming jumbled as he carried on. 

Bard held his husband as they sat on the floor, Thranduil crying and clutching the child— their child, for surely their dreams had not been a coincidence— tightly to his chest. A daughter. He had all but abandoned any such hope. Yet here she was, asleep even as Thranduil’s words became unrecognizable and his tears began to soak the blanket that swaddled her. 

They sat there on the floor of their bedchamber until Thranduil’s tears stemmed and his words became whispers to be planted with light kisses on their daughter’s forehead. “Is this real? Am I dreaming still?” Bard combed the tangles from his husband’s hair. 

Thranduil’s smile was as bright as the sun at midday when he turned his attention to him. “If this is a dream I would will myself never to leave. But I saw them, my love. The will of the Valar and Eru himself have conspired to bring us this most precious gift.” 

“I did not think such a thing were possible.” Bard breathed. Thranduil turned to the child again before settling her in Bard’s waiting arms. Laughter bubbled in his chest and soon tears were falling from his own eyes, too.

☼

They named her Vínoeth, for she was the daughter of both their hearts. The halls of the Greenwood were filled with laughter and song and a feast that carried on for days. Even when Bard and Thranduil would retire early with their daughter, the festivities echoed throughout the mountain long into the night.

Messengers were sent to all corners of Middle Earth, calling Legolas where he had settled with the Dunedain and Sigrid and Tilda from beyond the Misty Mountains. Bain brought half the city with him when he rode from Dale, and the celebrations began anew. 

Within the month, Bard had his whole family gathered in the same room. Sigrid wept for them and Tilda was fierce in her protection of her new sister. Legolas held her as though she were made from starlight itself. He embraced his father— tentative at first, as though he feared being turned away. But Thranduil gripped his son tightly, held him close as silent tears welled in his eyes. 

Bard’s own children crowded around him then, Sigrid and Tilda held tightly to his neck and Bain, grown so tall now he stood above Bard, wrapped his long arms around all their shoulders. Thranduil’s gaze found his as he and Legolas crossed the room, Vínoeth awake and smiling brightly at them from her place against her brother’s chest. Never had Bard’s life felt more complete than in that moment. He felt as if the stars had aligned to bring them all to this moment— as though he’d been waiting all his life for it without ever knowing.

**Author's Note:**

> it's not too late to request a fic! [submit a prompt](http://www.ofplanet-earth.tumblr.com/ask) and I'll add it to the list!  
> I like to tag [inspiration](http://www.ofplanet-earth.tumblr.com/tagged/30-days-of-barduil) for the stories I write.  
> you can keep track of my word count on [my WriMo novel page](http://nanowrimo.org/participants/ofplanet-earth/novels/30-days-of-barduil) or [my tumblr](http://www.ofplanet-earth.tumblr.com/tagged/nanowrimo).


End file.
